Once Young

So black was the sky once
that I could not count the mess of scarring stars,
and likened man's architectures to false reality
and likened God's clouds towards a vapid smile.
So red was the moon once
that I felt blue for a scarlet heart,
and likened my footprints to anonymous craters
and likened paid reflection to an emptier world.
So empty was space once
that I could not float too far,
and likened eerie asteroids to older brothers
and likened bottomless belts to warm river veins.
So far was time once,
that I assumed nothing more silent than the nothing in myself,
and likened words to a distorted slate of blankness
and likened him to a fire-breathing untouchable, never human.
So real was sleep once
that I could not feign wake,
and likened friends to welcoming monsters
and likened wholesome novels for a melted page.
So long ago, Long Ago was then, once
that I forgot to swallow the quietest memories,
where I likened ankle bracelets to elements of the night
where vagrant feet could but dream to fly.